Beautiful Bangladesh...come visit us

Discovering a new Cox's Bazar

We wanted to travel along the coast. We called it a coast feast and so the traditional Cox's Bazar became our first spot.

On a sunny warm morning, we arrived in Cox's Bazar. It was a long time since I last visited this place -- my reason to avoid it was the huge crowd that I always loathed. You have no privacy. Secondly, with the fall of dusk Cox's Bazar turns into the most boring sea resort I have ever visited. There are no clubs, no entertainment facilities. You just shut yourself up behind the hotel doors and brood over your gloomy years.

So I came here with much trepidation. But what struck me as our car coasted through the busy town is the amount of money that has gone into tourism here -- newer and newer hotels have shot up into the sky and funnily none of them are empty even on this supposedly off-season. Rickshaw fare is astronomically high to piss off any traveller. And tourists were visible even more now -- the middle-class is going out more and more, they are becoming holidaymakers. But still no signs of any clubs or entertainment spot. So, with the conservative Cox's Bazar, tourism stops there.

After we had checked into the forest guesthouse right on the beach (by the way, this is the only staying place closest to the sea), we took a stroll on the beach. We walked a long distance to a quieter place, a huge fishing boat had been beached for repair. It lay banked on one side. We took a dip in the sea to ward off the heat and then sat in the shade of the boat until we felt another need for a swim.

The temple at last

Ada Chai forest station looked forlorn in this deep forest -- an outstation with a pale existence. We walked down a long wooden pier that had developed gaping holes through its rotten wood planks. At the end of it was the wooden station its planks blacked by continuous rain, damp, musty smell hanging in the air. The lanterns could hardly beat the gloom of the gathering dusk as we entered the ramshackle station. The dampness enters your inside and you feel dizzy. I was taken aback by the unbelievably sorry living condition of the foresters.
What surprised me more was the backyard of the station. A long pier about ten feet above the ground had run to the toilets. And it was protected with tightly knit golpata partition all the way. The floor was also made with solid wood.